


When It's Not Enough

by charvill1981



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Breakup, F/M, Fanfic, MSR, Mulder - Freeform, MulderandScully, Post-Series, Scully - Freeform, The X-Files - Freeform, Xfiles, post iwtb, post-IWTB, season 10, thexfiles - Freeform, txf, x-files
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:26:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6879796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charvill1981/pseuds/charvill1981
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: NEW CHAPTER ADDED. Another depressing Mulder and Scully story based on what must have happened between 2008-2016. Set post-IWTB, pre-Revival. Fic therapy has been a necessary evil since the announcement. If this story doesn’t make sense, there’s a reasonable explanation :) lol</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She stood, hands on hips and jaw dropped, staring at him from over the kitchen sink. He squared off, leaning forward as if he could tower over her with two feet of Formica between them, his face red and nostrils flared. The seconds ticked away on the antique grandfather clock they had purchased on a day trip to Leesburg last year, the air heavy with the words he had all but spat at her.

“Y-you don’t mean that,” she said, shaking her head as the tears welled in her eyes.

His eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with venom as he replied, “The hell I don’t.”

“Okay.” She nodded, sniffling, and turned off the faucet. “I’ll just be a few minutes then,” she continued as she turned to her right to head towards their bedroom.

He was around the peninsula in three long strides before reaching out to grab her by the elbow. “Are you kidding?” He jerked her backed towards him, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You’re just gonna walk away in the middle of this?”

Ten years ago, five years ago, hell, even one year ago, she might have felt enough –of anything— to bring herself to fight back; now, she looked down at the floor, lacking the strength to even look him in the eye as he had another episode.

He gripped her arms harder, shaking her with each word. “Do you even care anymore? About anything?”

She took a deep breath and just managed to lift her head; blue eyes, which once held fire when challenged by him, dulled with resignation, and she remained silent. His rage began to ebb, the point of their current argument slowly getting lost in his mind’s haze. With each beat of his heart, so loud in his own ears, his anger turned into fear, building exponentially until he could feel his fingertips vibrating with it.

“Scully?” He released his grip on her, moving one hand up to stroke her cheek—and she flinched and turned her head away. She had never done this during a fight. Ever. The world began to tilt. “Say something!”

Her strawberry blonde curls protected her from having to see which expression was on his face this time. Ever since the date had passed – and the world continued on—his moods would go from anger to the point of near insanity until suddenly the switch would flip and it turned into guilt with sobbing and tears.

She had requested a leave of absence from work at the beginning of January just so she could help him deal, so they could deal, with this new world in which they were suddenly living. This new place where she had given up their son, refusing Mulder time and time again when he figured out ways for them to get him back, reminding him of that end date; reminding him that her decision was for his innocence and protection.

And then, the date came and nothing happened. No invasion. No rebels. No reborn Syndicate. Just. Nothing.

It broke them. Who were they now? Just two people who had once fought against the end of the world and all the evil in it? They had given up everything. Literally, everything…except each other. For what?

“There’s nothing left to say, Mulder.”

She heard him gasp and was immediately taken back to his apartment, another lifetime ago. Another fight just like this, when she was resigned to a future without hope. I need you on this…

And just like that day, she turned away from him. She padded through the short hallway, floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet, and past the threshold of the bedroom they had shared for almost nine years. Going over to the closet, she could see him out of the corner of her eye in the doorway planning his next move. She pulled her overnight bag down from the shelf and placed it on the bed.

“This isn’t funny, Scully.”

She bit her tongue, swallowing the retort in her head, and went over to the dresser to gather a few items. The gravity of her decision began to sink in, her hands shaking as she folded the items against her chest. She felt his panicked stare like it was a physical object, its heat pressing against each surface of her body, wherever it fell.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again, his anxiety growing as he watched her slow, silent movements. Their fight in the kitchen had been explosive on his part. He had released a decade of resentment in a matter of seconds. Running a hand frantically through his hair, he felt the cool metal press into his finger when it touched his scalp. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She moved back to the closet, ignoring him, and started pulling clothes from their hangers. As she turned around, he moved suddenly between her and the bed. Keeping her head down, she tried to go around him, but he blocked her with each step. “Mulder, just get out of my way.”

“Did you hear me?” he asked, grabbing her by the shoulders again, but with less ferocity. “I said ‘I’m sorry’.”

She let out a slow breath through her nose and looked up at him without expression.

His hazel eyes were wild as they examined every inch of her face, searching for a reaction to his words. He found none. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, and tried again to go around him.

“Stop!” His desperation won over, and he ripped the clothes from her grip so hard that she nearly fell backwards. “I’m not letting you leave, Scully,” he growled and attempted, with trembling hands, to put her things back in their closet. “You’re not just going to walk away from me again!”

More than just a little frightened by his reaction, she quickly made for the door. It was the first time she had ever literally run away from him.

“HEY!” he screamed, as he saw her out of the corner of his eye: a blur of color escaping through the door. He caught up just before she could get into the open living room and pushed her up against the wall of the dark hallway. The paneling he had installed himself, when he was all but a prisoner in their house, pressed into her spine painfully. “What the hell, Scully?”

His face mere inches from her own, she turned away, too scared to see what was in his eyes. “Mulder,” she said with much more calm than she felt, “let go of me.”

“No! We need to talk about this…how could you just run like that? What is going on with you?”

You’re scaring the shit out of me, she wanted to say. But, instead, she remained quiet and continued looking away from him, hoping he would realize there was nothing left to fight. This was the only defense she had left against his mood swings.

Suddenly, he grabbed her face with both hands to force her to look at him. They stood there, barely able to see in the darkness of the hallway, just breathing the air that seemed to burn between them. “Say something, Scully.”

“I told you, Mulder…there’s nothing left—“

He cut her off with a kiss, crushing her lips beneath his own. She didn’t try to resist as he deepened it, his tongue seeking hers out as his hands dropped to the hem of her shirt to pull it free of her waistband. His kisses dropped lower as he searched for the spot on her neck that made her crazy. “Say something, Scully,” he whispered again into her flesh.

She knew she should stop him before this got out of control, but all her thoughts of why turned to why not. “Say what, Mulder?”

He pulled her shirt over her head before letting it drop to the floor, and lifted her so her legs were wrapped around his waist. She rested her forehead against his as they listened to one another breathe.

“Tell me to stop.”

She placed her hands on either side of his face, mimicking his earlier position, and flicked her tongue across his lower lip before biting it gently. He walked them blindly down the hall into the bedroom where they quickly undressed the other before falling back onto the bed. No more words were spoken.

The next morning he woke up alone. He rolled over on his back and extended his arm to her side. The sheets were ice cold. The night before came rushing back to him.

“Scully?” he called out in pure desperation.

He sat up, immediately looking and listening for signs that she was still there in the house. And then, he checked his phone and saw her text on the lock screen. “I need some time to think.”

Looking over at their closet, he noted with extreme distress that it was open; the clothes and bag he’d thrown back inside last night were gone. Picking up his clothes that had been hastily discarded several hours before, he put them on and sprinted out the door.

As he knocked the dilapidated screen out of his way, he saw only one car in their gravel driveway. The sight had the same effect of someone hitting him across the back with a 2x4, and he fell to his knees on their front porch.

She was really gone.

END PART 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can also find more of my works on Tumblr   
> http://charvill1981.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> see part 1

He laid there numbly on the worn leather couch in the living room, staring up at the ceiling as he had for the past three hours. Picking up his phone for fiftieth time since he had collapsed there, the mute was still untouched, volume all the way up. She hadn’t called or texted or emailed. 

 

When he had recovered from the shock of realizing she had fled, his first instinct was to follow. He stepped back inside, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the end table, and ran down the steps to his car. As he did so, he opened the app they had installed on their phones that allowed them to locate the other for emergency reasons. Just as he suspected, her phone had been turned off, so the locator didn’t work. 

 

He started the engine and headed towards the hospital. The text she had left him that morning kept repeating in his head. Less than two blocks into town, he pulled into the parking lot of the hardware store and slammed the car into park. I need some time, I need some time, I need some time…

 

“Fuck!” he screamed to no one, before putting the car into reverse and heading back to the property they had shared longer than they had worked together on the X-Files. 

 

As he laid there, he thought about the things he had said to her less than twenty-four hours before.

 

“You don’t know anything, Scully!”

 

“Mulder, if he still displayed those kind of tendencies…to the point that he knows the truth about where he comes from, don’t you think we would have heard something by now? Seen some kind of sign?” she asked coolly while gathering the dishes from the table. 

 

“He’s not a baby anymore…and you saw it. You saw the fucking things he could do!” he yelled, slamming his hand down on the countertop. “At only a few months old! How do you know he isn’t protecting himself by hiding his gifts? Why would he allow people to see something like that if he knew how different he was?”

 

She turned on the hot water, dumping the dishes into the sink while she waited for the water to warm. “We have been over this a thousand times-“

 

“No!” he said, raising his voice again and pacing back and forth across the sink from her. “No, Scully, that was BEFORE! Before the world didn’t end. When we thought we were protecting him-“

 

“He is not ours to protect anymore, Mulder.”

 

He froze for two short seconds before turning on her. “What the hell did you just say?”

 

“I’m not doing this anymore. You have to let it go.” She didn’t look at him, instead reaching for a cup and running it under the steaming water.

 

He stared at her like she had just grown horns. “Let it go? Let it fucking GO? You mean like the way you let him go, you self-centered, cowardly, BITCH!”

 

The look on her face after he all but assaulted her with those words shown vividly in his mind’s eye, and he pressed the heels of his hands so deeply into his eyes that he saw stars.

 

“GODDAMN IT!”  
************

 

True to form, Mulder collapsed within minutes after their primal “lovemaking”. And, as usual, even an hour later, he was clutching her possessively to his chest in their post-coital spooning. She rotated as much as she could to lie on her back, his right arm trapped beneath her neck and gently pressed his shoulder until he moved his left arm off of her. Then she sat up, and he rolled away from her without waking.

 

She had made the decision to leave within minutes of him finishing. The things he had called her earlier that night still rattled around her brain painfully. Even though he apologized, she knew (and had always suspected) there was a large amount of resentment he still had over her decision. The fact that he finally came clean about it just meant he was having a harder time controlling himself. It still hurt like hell, though.

 

Did she still love him? With every fiber of her being. Was he losing it? Absolutely. Was he a threat to her? More so than ever before. And, she knew, if he were to hurt her worse than he had during their previous arguments or even another bad dream (which had happened three times in the last two months), he might harm himself. The idea of that alone was horrifying, but the scariest part was the possibility of her not being able to save him from himself.

 

Carefully gathering enough things from the closet and bathroom to last her a few days (and almost jumping out of her skin twice when he rolled over), she left their property at 1:45am and headed to the city to find a hotel. After checking in, she texted him at 3am, said a prayer, and turned her phone off.

 

When she awoke, it took her a few seconds to remember where she was or why she was there. Beside her on the standard night table, she noticed her phone, which was plugged in but turned off. Something she had never done before. The hotel clock told her it was well past nine in the morning, and she wondered if he had noticed her absence yet. Closing her eyes, she pictured the look of hurt and confusion that would be on his face when he saw her text. Would he try to find her? She rubbed her eyes, as the answer resounded loudly in her head: Of course, he will! 

 

She walked into the bathroom, turned the shower on to “Hot”, and stripped down in front of the mirror. There were light purple, finger-shaped bruises on her shoulders she was upset to find, along with a darker one on the middle of her back. When she stepped under the near-scalding water, she finally allowed herself to break down and cry. Why was it that the only person who could hurt her, was the one person to whom she wanted to turn?

 

Thirty minutes later, she sat numbly in front of the television set in her room, staring at the news without seeing it. Her phone –still turned off— was lying beside her, and she couldn’t help but look at it every few seconds.

**********  
His moods had been more erratic than ever before, with outbursts happening often. It’s why she had taken an indefinite amount of time off work; to help him work through it, since he refused to see a psychiatrist. His “fits” had been mostly focused on hating himself and those that put them in this situation in the first place. But last night, he had finally turned on the one thing that had never judged him – the only person who had ever cared enough to stay.

 

Jumping up from the couch, he looked around him for something he could break. And then, he thought of her face if she walked in to find the place trashed. If she ever does come back to a piece of shit like you in a piece of shit house like this, he thought to himself.

 

He needed to get out. He needed to run. 

***********  
She stabbed at the spinach and tomatoes in her salad, the only release she had currently. Sitting on the uncomfortable hotel bed all day had given her way too much time to go over what happened the night before, and she was furious…at herself. 

 

Obviously, she didn’t deserve to be called the things he called her, but telling Mulder that William was “not ours to protect” was both below the belt and not true. There wasn’t anything on Earth that she wouldn’t do to make sure he was safe. She had no idea why those words even came out of her mouth, except to wound the irate man in front of her. And, if she was scared of Mulder for losing control the way he did, was she really so different? Hadn’t she lost control, too?

 

She picked up her phone and turned it on. After waiting the agonizing thirty seconds for her home screen to come up, she opened her “Recents” and touched his name. When the generic voicemail came on, she cursed and let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. She pulled the phone away from her ear and had to try twice to hit the red “End” button due to the shaking of her hand. One phone call – that he didn’t even answer – and she already had twenty different scenarios for why he hadn’t gotten to it.

 

She clenched and unclenched her fists unconsciously as she looked at the bland white hotel door, not unlike the hundreds of others she had seen during her time on the X-Files. With him standing on the other side. Trying his phone one more time, still without a response, she picked up her keys and, her heart pounding, attempted to walk without racing to her car.

************  
He went on his usual five-mile loop from their house, the hills that lined the streets close to their property making his calves burn in a way his body appreciated today. It was easier to push the images of her out of his mind when he was focused on the terrain and not turning an ankle on the cross-country path. 

 

The last half-mile was his favorite part because their property was uphill, meaning he had to push himself that much harder to finish. Passing the first edge of their perimeter fence that let him know he was less than a quarter of a mile from the door, he spotted something that had him breaking into a sprint.

***********  
The entire drive she debated her decision. Coming back so soon would make him think everything was okay when they were definitely not. And being together in the state he was in, letting that darkness creep into her soul to strip her of her self-control, was not making things better. The decision to take off from work was to help him heal, but it felt like the opposite was happening. Leaving, or fleeing, the way she had was not healthy, either…but he obviously wasn’t going to let her go any other way. 

 

Less than a mile from their house, she balked and almost turned the car around. Instead, she picked up her phone from the passenger seat and rang him one last time. 

 

“You have reached the voice—“ 

 

She clicked the end button, attempted to push the image of him lying bloody and broken on the floor in their house from her mind, and pressed on the gas. As she rolled up on their gated entry, she saw his car sitting in its usual spot and tried not to take it as a bad sign. After opening the gate, she didn’t even bother to take the time to close it, fearing every second might be one she would need if….

 

Please be okay, Mulder, please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.

 

Putting the car in park, she took a deep breath through her nose in an attempt to calm her nerves. She walked up the steps, and slowly opened the door – hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.

 

“Mulder?” she called out, pausing in the doorway. 

 

No response.

 

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark room, she looked around for any sign of him in the living room and was halfway relieved to find none. She made her way over to his office, the sound of her boots echoing loudly. Surely he can hear me, she thought to herself, panic beginning anew. She pushed the door to his office open, cautiously, and smiled upon seeing it empty. 

 

Turning around, she headed down the hall to their bedroom and saw the clothes –which she had stripped off of him the night before—lying in a heap on the floor. But, he wasn’t in bed. She walked into their bathroom and had a flashback of pulling back a curtain 18 years before to find him shivering on the floor of the bathtub. Saying one more prayer, she threw it open with eyes closed. She held her breath and allowed herself to look. Nothing.

 

She went back out into the living area, after checking the rest of the small house, and spotted his phone lying on the end table next to the bowl for their keys. He’s okay, she thought to herself and felt overwhelming relief…until the front door burst open.

 

Caught like a deer in headlights, it occurred to her that she hadn’t thought about what she would do if she found him unharmed.

 

He stood there in sweat pants and a black hooded sweatshirt, chest heaving with exertion and sweat beading on his forehead. She half-expected him to scream or yell or run at her, but instead he just stared at her with his mouth hanging open in shock.

 

“Mulder, I was just…” she paused, not knowing how honest she should be about her earlier fears. She pointed to his phone.

 

He looked down at it in confusion.

 

“I tried to call, but when you didn’t answer…” I freaked out and thought you might have done something stupid, she finished silently.

 

He picked it up and pressed the home button, dumbfounded to see her missed calls staring back up at him. Then, he looked back at her. Ever since he saw her car, the only thing going through his head was relief that she had come back and given him another chance to apologize. But now, looking at her standing there with her coat on, phone and keys still in hand…she just came to see if he had killed himself.

 

“I thought you, uh” he chewed on the inside of his lip, feeling completely vulnerable under her stare, before continuing, “you needed time.”

 

She nodded. “I did.”

 

He couldn’t help but notice the past tense, and started towards her eagerly. “Dana…”

 

“I do,” she corrected and, not able to face his pained expression, watched his shoulders fall as he stopped halfway from her. “That’s why I called. I, uh…” she brought her right hand up and pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to organize the thoughts and emotions coursing through her. “God, Mulder, why is this so hard?”

 

When she pulled her hand down, she opened her tear-filled eyes to see him studying her carefully.

 

He shook his head, opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again. All he wanted to do was hold her, or fall at her feet and beg her not to leave him alone again. Instead, he forced his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie, so he couldn’t touch her. Hidden from her sight, he spun the band around his finger hard enough to cut into the skin, delighting in the pain it brought. “I don’t know.” 

 

“When I called you…I wanted to apologize.”

 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing! “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” he growled.

 

Expecting that, she put up a hand and nodded her objection, even as he took another step towards her. “Mulder, William will always be ours to protect.” He froze and she knew—as she watched his eyes close, something he always did when his emotions became too much to bear—that he was replaying their fight in his head. “William is our son, and there is nothing that will ever change that. Ever. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to stop someone if I thought they were endangering him. Including you,” she said, pausing to make sure that sunk in before continuing, “And including myself. When I said that last night…I did it to hurt you.” 

 

She stopped and moved to close the distance between them, resting the palm of her left hand against his cheek. Clearing her throat as two tears finally escaped and rolled down her cheeks, she whispered, “You didn’t…you don’t deserve that.”

 

He opened his eyes, which she was heartbroken to find also held tears, and wrapped his arms around her. 

 

“Can you forgive me, Mulder?”

 

He chuckled bitterly, the sound reverberating in his chest where her ear was pressed. 

 

“Do you really need to ask?”

 

She pulled away from him gently, looked down at her feet for a second, before staring up at him with a look he could only describe as utter defeat. He drew in a shaky breath, his eyes wide as he suddenly realized what she meant.

 

“How long?”

 

“I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that this isn’t working-“

 

“But, I love you,” he blurted out in desperation. As if that could fix this. He reached for her hands, looking at the ring he put there just a few years before. The ring he wanted to put there over twelve years before…the first time he decided she was all the family he’d ever need. He ran his thumb over the simple gold band.

 

“Jesus, Mulder,” she whispered and moved her hands up to her face so that she could kiss his. “I love you so much it hurts.”

 

“Then why—“

 

“Because…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at him again. “Maybe sometimes love isn’t enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find more of my works on Tumblr  
> http://charvill1981.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things can't be undone. Forgiving oneself proves to be hard for Mulder. Flashbacks ensue. Promises are made. I submit these almost as fast as I type them so please forgive the mistakes :) And THANK YOU for the kudos and comments!!!! That's what inspires me to keep going with this! Thanks again!

“It’s not forever, Mulder,” she promised after telling him that the only thing he had to give her, his unconditional and undying love, simply wasn’t enough anymore. Scully took his hands in hers and brought his knuckles, up to her lips. She pressed a soft kiss against the ring, the one she had given him as a symbol of a love that had no beginning and no end. “You know I’m not _leaving_ you, right?”

 

He huffed bitterly, thrusting his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t blame her. What reason did she even have to stay anymore? Why did she put up with him? After everything he had put her through, everything she’d had to endure because of him…

 

“Mulder.” She lifted her hand to caress the stubble there, as she tried –unsuccessfully- to get him to meet her eyes.

 

“Where will you be?”

 

For a fleeting second, she thought about denying him an answer, maybe even lying. But that would have been the opposite of healthy, and only serving to add to his anxiety over her decision. Transparency was her only option.

 

“My mother’s,” she started before seeing his eyes widen in panic. ”It’s the best op—“

 

“That’s two hours away!” Shaking his head, he reached his hand up to rub viciously at the stubble of his jaw, his mind racing in a million horrible directions. He turned around and began pacing from her to the couch. “I can’t…I can’t believe this is happening.”

 

She watched his frantic movements in silence, unsure as to whether trying to rationalize with him would make him more or less anxious.

 

Mulder spun to face her, his hazel eyes wild with panic and his long fingers pushing his unruly hair back from his forehead. “What am I supposed to…how…” he paused, forcing himself to meet her big blue eyes, needing her to see that he was baring his soul; trusting her, as always, not to crush him. “How do I fix this, Scully?”

 

She closed her eyes against the pain she saw in face, the vulnerability in his voice. Two tears escaped down her cheeks that she couldn’t bring herself to brush away. It was a simple and fair question, but they both knew there wasn’t a simple or fair answer. The shuffling sound of his footsteps sent shivers up her spine as she felt him close the distance between them. Taking a deep breath, knowing he was waiting patiently for a real answer, she opened her eyes.

 

The defeat and uncertainty he saw when she met his gaze made his stomach churn. He couldn’t lose her now. There had to be something he could do. “There has to be a way,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t—“.

 

He squeezed his eyes tight, not being able to verbalize his worst fear-- the one he’d told her in the hallway outside Skinner’s office in what was literally, for him, another lifetime ago. It was at that moment, the idea came to him and he knew what he had to do. “Send me a list of names, Scully.”

 

She raised an eyebrow, her confusion obvious.

 

“Therapists. I will check them out, and then,” he took a deep breath, again unable to speak a truth he wasn’t ready to accept.

 

She nodded in understanding, a small smile fighting its way through the sadness of the moment. “It’s not forever.”

 

“I want to believe that,” he replied, rubbing the ring on her left hand between them.

 

> During the time he had been on the run for his life, after William was born, he had found the rings in one of the supply boxes the Gunmen created that held fake passports and ID’s for him and Scully. It was supposed to be part of the disguise, but when he saw the engravings inside (“Trust Only One”), he knew it was meant to also hold possibilities of a future he had never allowed himself to imagine.
> 
>  
> 
> After the Father Joe case, when he was suddenly a free man, he decided he wanted her to have her ring, and more so, he wanted to wear one, too. If he was allowed to be seen with her in public now, he wanted everyone to know what she meant to him. After everything the government had put them through, though, marriage for the sake of a certificate didn’t interest him or her. The exchange of vows had happened as they laid in bed together. It had started as joke, with her giggling as he said “I, _Mulder_ , take you, _Scully_ …”
> 
>  
> 
> “To have and to hold,” she continued for him with a peck on his nose.
> 
>  
> 
> “For better or for worse. For richer or poorer.”
> 
>  
> 
> “In sickness—“
> 
>  
> 
> “Well, that’s a given, Doc—Ow!”
> 
>  
> 
> She grinned, rubbing the area on his bare shoulder she had just swatted before placing another small kiss there. “And in health.”
> 
>  
> 
> He quieted, a somber look on his face before grudgingly finishing with, “Until death do we part.”
> 
>  
> 
> Seeing his distress at the mere idea, she straddled his waist and leaned down until their noses touched. Then she smiled against his mouth and whispered, “Then I guess you’re really stuck then, or did you forget? I’m _immortal_.”

 

He held her gaze as relived that moment in his mind, and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “This will be just the fourth time we have spent the night apart in almost ten years, Scully.”

 

She could hear the emotion in his voice as his eyes grew wet, and she released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. _Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong._ “Mulder, I want you to listen to me. I need you to truly hear this.”

 

His eyes widened slightly, and he set his jaw, preparing himself.

 

“I’m not walking away from us, and I’m not leaving you. All I want is for us to take some time to be able to process…the things that have happened to us. Individually. Without having to worry about hurting each other. The way I behaved last night--”

 

“Oh God, Scully, don’t!” he groaned in disgust. “Don’t apologize when I was the one who was…abusive. Please. It makes me sick.”  

 

She wanted to remind him of the terrible things she had said, but knew he wouldn’t listen to that. “Okay…but there’s one other thing. I need you to make a promise to me.”

 

Scully recalled the terrifying memory of calling him earlier and not getting an answer; the horrific images with which her mind had assaulted her. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying as hard as she could to remain stoic. But, as she looked up at him, the tender expression on the face that she had woken up to nearly every single day for a decade was too much. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in the soft cotton of his sweatshirt. She felt his arms encase her, clutching her to him as he ran his hand from the crown of her head downward to rub her back in soothing circles the way only Mulder could. “Mulder, promise me you won’t do anything…stupid. Please.”

 

Part of him wanted to chuckle, to take the intensity of the conversation down a few notches with a smartass remark. But then he remembered why she was in the house and the thoughts that must have plagued her in just the short time that he was away from his phone. “I promise, Scully.”

 

She leaned back to give him the shy smile that had always melted him into a puddle and he bent down to kiss her. Her hands cupped each side of his face, the pads of her fingers having memorized every curve and angle over the thousands of times they had embraced.

 

Mulder grabbed her ass with one hand, his other arm snaking around her back to lift her over to the couch, when it happened.

 

“Ouch!” Scully cried out as his forearm pressed against the middle of her spine.

 

He immediately set her back on her feet, his hazel eyes wide with worry. “What happened?”

 

She chastised herself internally, not having wanted to remind him of what he’d done to her the night before. 

 

As he thought about the way he had touched her, realization dawned on him and he sidestepped around her to face her back.

 

“Mulder, don’t!” she sighed as she tried to turn away, but it was too late.

 

“Holy fuck!” he gasped as he pushed her coat and shirt up her back, the purple and brown bruise that ran about 6 inches wide and an inch tall standing out starkly on her ivory skin. His stomach revolted at the sight of the damage he had caused and, feeling the air rushing from his body as though he’d been punched, he doubled over.

 

She took advantage to pull free and spun to face him. “Mulder!”

 

He felt her hand on the middle of his back and he quickly moved away. How could she want to touch him after what he did to her? Why did she even care if he lived or died? “What the hell, Scully?”

 

She stared up at him, confusion clear on her face.

 

“How can you stand there after...”. His hands flew up to cover his face, fingers pressing into his eyes as though he could get rid of the image of her back if he pushed hard enough. “I HURT YOU! My god, Scully! What if…?”

 

Oh no, she thought, seeing his train of thought. “Don’t do this, Mulder. You already apologized.”

 

His hands dropped down and he looked at her with a mix of disgust and utter disbelief.

 

“You were not yourself last night, and I pushed you there—“

 

“Get out, Scully.”

 

She blanched at the finality in his tone. Straightening her shirt and coat, she walked towards him as slowly as possible. He flinched when her elbow brushed against his arm. “Okay, Mulder. I’m going to pack a few things to take with me. Then…then, I will go.”

 

Not knowing which would be more painful, watching her pack up her things or sitting in another room listening to the only person he had left in the world preparing to escape from him, he made for the back door when he was stopped by her voice.

 

“MULDER!”

 

He froze, with his hand on the lever, but he couldn’t bring himself to face her.

 

“Just don’t…don’t forget what you promised. Okay?”

 

The anger he had the moment before felt like it physically rushed down his body into a puddle on the floor as he heard the desperation in her request. God help her, he thought, still wondering how she could even tolerate to be in the same room with him anymore. Managing a very shallow, very shaky breath, he replied simply, “Okay, Scully.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find more of my works here: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/charvill1981


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully packs. Sad day. Blame CC.

She stood at the foot of their queen-size bed and looked around the large room she had shared with Mulder since they had moved there just before Thanksgiving 2003. The vintage black distressed dresser and matching headboard they had seen at a random garage sale and fell in love with immediately. She felt a blush come over her as she thought about all the things they had done against that headboard…and atop the dresser. The moisture in her eyes burned as she ran her hand over the soft blue duvet that he had bought online to surprise her with for her fortieth birthday, after her complaints about the masculine plaid quilt they slept on before.

 

“It’s not forever,” she sighed to no one as she swiped angrily at the tear that had escaped without permission.

 

Their closet, her side now almost empty, pulled at her when she looked towards it. However, instead of finding herself in front of the void, she was drawn to Mulder’s clothes. Her hand lifted, almost involuntarily, and her breathing hitched when she touched his royal blue Knicks t-shirt. Pulling it off the hanger, she brought it up to her nose and was overwhelmed by a sense memory.

 

> Combing through his apartment, searching for answers and clues as to his whereabouts, she saw his dress shirt lying haphazardly on his bed. He had taken it off and left it after their last night together, before he went missing.
> 
>  
> 
> In shock over the possibility that she might never see him again, she clutched the shirt to her chest when his scent – aftershave and something else, something that was pure Mulder – pushed her over the edge of stoicism into a pit of grief. His child was inside her at that very moment, and the only thing she wanted was to be able to tell him. The miracle _they_ prayed for had come true. She wanted to simply see the joy, that pure and extremely rare, childlike smile Scully knew would be on his face before he wrapped her up and picked her up off the ground, spinning them both as he kissed her.

 

He looked at his watch for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes, reorganizing the tool shed while he kept an ear out for the start of an engine. As he paced around the opening of the shed, trying to decide if he should walk to the one closer to their property to put more gas in the riding mower, he spotted a flash of red near their bedroom window.

 

“Fuck” he said under his breath, knowing that meant she was in front of the closet. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see her emptying the last decade of their lives into a suitcase. Always a glutton for punishment, though, he trudged closer to the small aluminum building that sat less than 50 feet from that very window.

 

Bending down to grab the plastic red gas can that sat just inside, Mulder heard a noise. He immediately stood at attention, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him while glancing around to see if there was an animal that had gotten caught under the large mower. It stopped for about five seconds before he heard it again.

 

It was the same cry he had been witness to when Naciemento had literally tried to rip this woman’s heart from her body. The same sound he experienced the morning of their son’s first birthday as he pinned her to the ground after she tried to stop her own heart from beating; the nightmare she thought she awoke from was actually their reality.

 

It was the sound of Scully’s heart shattering. But, this time, it was because of him.

 

He immediately darted from the building over to the window, and felt his own heart shred itself when he saw what was on the other side. Scully had doubled over at the waist, her mouth open wide as she sobbed so hard her shoulders shook. His stomach churned when he realized she was clutching his Knicks’ t-shirt – the one she would prance around in on laundry day, pretending not to know the effect it had on him. He watched as she gripped it tightly between her fingers, bringing it up to cover her face as she let out a muffled scream of pure anguish. Never in his life had he felt so helpless as he did standing in their backyard as she suffered excruciating pain just two feet away.

 

 

“Scully.” He didn’t even realize he had cried out until her head turned his direction. Seeing her bloodshot eyes and splotchy red, tearstained cheeks, he pressed his hand against the glass as though he could reach her. 

 

She whipped her head towards the sound of her name, her heart racing inside a chest that burned from lack of oxygen. The pain she saw on his face, the tears that flowed unchecked as he pressed the palm of his hand against the glass, broke her all over again. On numb legs, she closed the small gap between them and laid her hand, tiny and delicate looking when matched up to his, his ring glinting in the sunlight against the smooth surface of the window.

 

His bottom lip quivered before he bit down on it and rested his forehead against the barrier he wished like hell wasn’t between them. “I’m sorry, Scully,” he wept. “I’m so sorry.”

 

She reached up her other hand instinctively, as though she could caress his hair through the window, before dropping it back down, having nearly forgotten the shirt she still held.

 

He stared at her, his right hand digging into the denim on his thigh as he fought to keep himself from running back inside.

 

“I love you,” she mouthed silently. After waiting a few seconds for some kind of response, she forced herself to turn away and walked out of his sight, into the darkness of the hallway to continue her painful chore.

 

“I love you, too, Scully.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.tumblr.com/blog/charvill1981


End file.
